I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 898: A Necessary Sliver of Hope

Adam tapped his finger on the table, his dark expression made heavier by the flickering braziers. "Listen, Grum'Thal. I'm sorry for what happened to you. I wouldn't want it to happen to me, nor to anyone, truly. But do you realise what you're asking from me? Grash'Thul—the netherworld! Overseer! That thing must be even older than magic itself, yet you want me to help you break your deal with him? You'd better find a madman with suicidal tendencies to offer him your knowledge. I'm sure just hearing your absurd request would fix his brain for good. No. Hell, no!"

He shook his head to chase the memory of this conversation. Determined to give up on the answers he had sought, he pushed on the soft leather covering the table, ready to leave as far as he could.

"You're not wrong." Grum'Thal waved gently toward Adam's seat. "And cautious. Qualities I respect. Qualities I share."

The great Shaman's red eyes burned for three heartbeats before settling back to their usual luminous sheen. It gave Adam pause, but not without arching his brow.

"The trick..." Grum'Thal's lips, broken by scars of suppressed green fire, curved, "is in the wording. The orcs will serve Grash'Thul for as long as he suppresses the demonic energy corrupting me. Then, what if..."

He didn't end his sentence. He didn't need to. Not when Adam's eyes widened in realisation. Could it be? Surely not. An ancient being, mysterious to teacher Louis and about which the college knew next to nothing, couldn't leave such a loophole. And yet, he believed it might have, just like it allowed necromancers to recall fragmented echoes of the dead.

He pressed his back against the backrest, his eyes narrowing into slits. "If you get rid of the corruption, the deal is null. Seems too good to be true."

"Or too hopeless to happen. Or perhaps it was a necessary sliver of hope, the leash that ensured I rebuilt the orcs' civilisation wholeheartedly." Grum'Thal shrugged. "I've long given up on trying to understand Grum'Thal, and you should, too. Millennia are minutes to him, and millions of souls are mere drops in the sea of the dead he regulates. In any case, I have no intention of confronting him. Better still, I have a lead on how to purge myself."

"Now we're talking." Adam leaned forward, his head tilted to the side, and the corners of his lips rising. "Guarantee I won't interact in any way, form, or draw the Overseer's attention, and I'll help you. You see, I've never been a supporter of slavery, much less when your people should be resting in peace. A pity you don't seem to mind all the trolls and kobolds you've taken in chains, though."

Grum'Thal jerked his head back, his deep voice bursting with amusement. "Them? Hahaha! You misunderstood. Do you really believe I'd rebuild my civilisation with the broken chains as our emblem to do the same? Labor force, tributes, call them what you like. They're merely sent to honor the ancient pact I signed with their leaders. After a couple of years, we send them back to their villages with food and good iron. The chains, the conquests—they are light plays and smoke to hide the truth from Haldris."

"Back to our deal." He struck his chest three times. "I guarantee your safety on my name and the honor of the orcs."

"Good. I guess we're working together... for now." Adam nodded. "What must I do, and why me?"

Grum'Thal shook his head. "I don't know if you're the one. My story isn't over. After Grash'Thul stabilised my body and mind, the weak girl I told you about convinced me to rally Leoric Caelmorne in his lonesome crusade to avenge Cordelia. I fought in his war, witnessed the formation of the seven great houses. And my friend rose to wisdom. I was delighted when the stars acknowledged her wisdom. I helped her the best I could during and after the war... until Haldris decided to flee our homeworld."

His voice grew heavy, his hands gripping the table until it cracked. "On the day we all departed, she told me that nothing would ever be the same, that the king on our side would change. I didn't understand why the hero who repelled the demonic invasion would change without reason, back then. She never answered. She only told me that she had been producing a cure to my corruption for five thousand became, that a human, a child of hers, would come to Thaur'Gorath with it far into the future."

A deep furrow creased Adam's brow. "She was wrong then. I'm no child of hers. Who is she in the first place?"

"Lady Mortis, leader of House Mortis and first to join Leoric." Just saying her name made Grum'Thal's voice drip with fondness, but also regret heavy enough for Adam to sigh.

Then, he tucked his fingers around his chin. "I'm as confused as you are. I thought she meant that you would have inherited her legacy. Yet, you found Leoric's, which is... surprising, knowing how much he loved and mourned the loss of Orrivandrel. It is also possible that you came too early. But if there is one thing I'm sure of in my life, it is that I trust Lady Mortis more than I trust myself. At one point, we all did, even Haldris."

For a moment, Adam twisted his features. People trying to divine or predict him? As if. They were wrong, every single one of them, just like Selene and Elena, who had believed he was the one.

With a click of his tongue, he hissed through his teeth. "Now I understand why Leoric called her a brat in his grimoire."

"She was, and it was a breeze of fresh air in a realm consumed by flames." Grum'Thal waved his hand. "You wanted to know who moved the pieces across the board on our side; it was her. She designed every strategy, every plan, until we clutched victory in that ultimate battle. They did something after... I don't know what, but it earned them a province, and I finally returned to Sryl'vara, returned home..." 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Adam felt the longing in Grum'Thal's voice. He had returned home, yet was so far from it now. He still wanted to return. But not like this. Adam understood it, and he genuinely wanted to help someone who had suffered for so long if he could. But so far, the lead almost told him nothing about the actual cure besides a vague prophecy he had already deemed incorrect.

"You'll tell me about the Gate and your shamanic arts later. Let's focus on how to shatter that damned deal first. Look. I need something, anything, about the cure. Where did she begin to develop it before you all moved to this realm? Did she even take it here? If she did, it must be somewhere on the college campus. Did anyone help her or know about it?"

With a thoughtful squint, Grum'Thal muttered beneath his breath. For a long minute, he didn't answer, his mind seemingly lost in fifteen thousand-year-old memories. Then, he shook his head. "Mhh. I believe she left Kumari Kandam to visit the prison she had established a couple of times. That's the only unusual thing I remember."

He leaned forward, his tall frame looming over the table. When he continued, his voice echoed with gravitas. "But I know who might have an answer."